


The Show Must Go On

by crushondeanlikeafairy



Series: Echo Park Is No Fun [2]
Category: S.W.A.T. (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Survivor Guilt, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-10-25 13:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushondeanlikeafairy/pseuds/crushondeanlikeafairy
Summary: After everything that happened, Street's friends want him to take it easy but he's eager to get back to work.





	1. Day One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from a Queen song by the same name.  
> Sequel time!! This is my first sequel and I am so excited!!  
> Not gonna lie, I took a solid minute figuring out how to set up a series only to realize the button was right in front of me.

Sheets of rain were pouring down from the grey sky, so thick that it was difficult to see even just two feet away. It had been cold and rainy for the last few days, enough so that Street hadn't wanted to go outside. He hadn't been very social since he'd gotten home from the hospital, but not being able to see the sun was putting a damper on his mood.

"It's a bad omen," Luca's voice rang out from the kitchen.

Another excuse. Street almost found them funny now. His roommate didn't think that Street was ready to go back to work yet, so he kept finding little reasons why it should be put off for a few days. First, it was the fact that Street was still two pounds under the weight he had been before the whole Echo Park fiasco. Now, apparently, the rain was a sign that he should stay home.

"Luca, we've talked about this," he called back, "I'm going back today."

The officer was anxious to get back. He'd been inactive for too long. Truth be told, sitting at home by himself all day allowed his mind to wander and he needed a distraction. Besides, he was well enough now that his doctor signed off on it so Street really didn't see why his friend was so worried. Street just needed Doctor Wendy to agree that he was mentally ready and he knew he could ace that.

"Look, man," Luca said as he entered the living room with two paper bags for their lunches, "I just think that maybe you need a little more time."

"Doctor Freely disagrees, and so do I," Street insisted, grabbing his duffle from the couch and slinging it over his shoulder, "Please, dude. I need this."

Luca regarded the other man quietly for a moment, clearly fighting his worry, "Ok, I've got your back."

"Thank you," Street smiled appreciatively, taking his lunch bag as Luca offered it to him and shoving it into his duffle, "Now let's go. We're late." 

* * *

 

As the pair rounded the corner past the boxing ring, Luca reached over and grabbed Street's shoulder, shaking him excitedly.

"Hey, guys," he shouted, "Look who's back!"

Everyone was on them in a matter of seconds. Mumford's team had been milling about in the open space, so were the first to greet Street. They all pat him on the back as they exclaimed how excited they were.

"About damn time," Rocker said, "They kept making me fill in for you. Why is it always me?"

"Cause you two could be twins. You're both cocky pretty boys," Mumford laughed, clapping his teammate on the back. Both Rocker and Street pulled a face in response, causing the others to chuckle.

Commander Hicks came up with Captain Cortez then, having noticed the group of officers standing in the middle of the aisle and moved to investigate.

"I saw you were coming back today in my paperwork," he said by way of greeting, "It's good to see you again, son."

"We've really missed you around here, Street," Cortez agreed, "I'm so glad to see you're doing better."

He nodded his thanks, preventing from verbally doing so by a shout coming from the end of the hall.

"Street!"

When he heard his name, he looked up to see the other members of his team running toward him. Mumford's team parted to let them through and he only had a second to brace himself before Chris crashed into him, wrapping him in a bear hug. Once he caught his breath, he let out a laugh as he wrapped his arms around her in return.

"What? Did you miss me?"

She let go of him to step back a punch him in the shoulder, "Don't ask stupid questions."

He laughed again as he rubbed his arm.

"It's good to have you back, man," Hondo said, grinning ear to ear, "We can get rid of Rocker's lame ass now."

"And give him back to me," Mumford joked, "Thanks, Hondo."

The other team walked away, still picking fun at their teammate as they went. Tan came over and slung his arm around Street's shoulder.

"We have to celebrate later! Who's up for a drink tonight?"

"Business first," Hondo said, "Street, Doctor Wendy is waiting for you in her office. Once she signs off, you'll be good to go."

Street took a deep breath, hoping his nervousness didn't show. A lot was riding on this "talk" with Doctor Wendy. He thought he was ready but a part of him worried that he was deluding himself.

"Hey," Deacon said, waiting till Street looked over to him, "You've got this."

Street nodded and flashed his team a tight smile.

"Luca, could you put this in the locker room for me?" he asked, taking his bag off his shoulder and handing it to his teammate.

"Of course," Luca agreed, slinging the bag over his own shoulder, "Now go into that meeting and kick some ass!"

He laughed softly and then left his team to go find Wendy. 

* * *

 

The leather couch crunched underneath him as he fidgeted in his seat. Wendy was sitting directly across from him in her chair, waiting patiently with her clipboard in her lap. The soft ticking of the clock on the wall was slowly driving him insane.

"Are you nervous?" she asked after he checked his watch for probably the dozenth time since he entered the room five minutes ago.

"No," he answered quickly, repeating himself in a calmer tone when she only raised an eyebrow, "No. There's just a lot riding on this talk."

"Such as?"

"If I don't pass this, I can't come back to work," he explained, adjusting his posture again to sit up straighter, leaning forward to tap his knees with the palms of his hands.

"And why is that a bad thing? Why can't you take just a little more time for yourself? Don't you think you've earned it? You just left the hospital two weeks ago."

"I can't because that means being home alone with just my tho-" he stopped halfway through his sentence, realizing that she had tricked him into saying something he hadn't meant to, "You're good, you know that?"

"That's why I get paid the big bucks," she said lightly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, "Why is being home alone a bad thing? Explain it to me."

He thought for a second, turning his face to the sunlight breaking through the window. The answer had to the right one, or she wouldn't pass him. But he also knew honesty was his only option, anything else and she would know and have no choice but to fail him. He just had to hope that honesty was also the right answer.

"When I don't have anything to distract me... I can't help but think about everything that happened."

"What did happen?" she asked, explaining when he shot her a look, "I know about all of this. I need to hear you admit it."

"I was locked in a dark closet for five days, without any food or water."

"And?"

"And what?" he asked, frustrated, "What do you want me to say?"

"I can't tell you that," she smiled, "You need to come to that conclusion. What I can tell you, is that I think you're afraid. You're afraid to admit something to yourself and you're trying to avoid it by coming back to work. But you need to accept it in order for you to move past it. So let me ask you again, what did happen a few weeks ago?"

Street looked down at his hands in his lap, picking at a loose thread in his pants.

"I almost died."

He looked up at her expectantly to find a sympathetic look on her face.

"And that's hard for you to accept. Why?"

"Because... I don't know, because it's scary?"

"Why are you asking me? Is it scary?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, "I've been in situations where I thought I was going to die before and it's fine. It's part of the job. I'm okay with that. But this is different."

"How?

"I thought I was already dead," he whispered, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, "I didn't know where I was or why I was there. I just... woke up in the dark. After waiting forever for something,  _anything_ , I started to think that maybe... maybe I couldn't make it out alive because I was already dead. But then I woke up in the hospital, and they told me how everything went down and yay! I'm not dead! But I could have been. I almost was. They told me that if my team had shown up just a few hours later then I would have been."

"But you aren't."

"But twelve other people are!"

"They are. It's truly awful," Wendy answered, "Do you feel guilty about that?"

He reached up quickly to wipe away an errant tear before it could slip down his cheek, "A little."

"Why?"

"I can't help thinking about how they died. I know what they felt. I'm no more important than any of them, but I'm the one who got to live?"

"It's the way things turned out. You have no control over it," Wendy promised, "It isn't your fault. The only person at fault is Pete Russell."

"I know," he said earnestly, "I  _know_ that, but I can't help feeling guilty."

"And there's nothing wrong with that. It's survivor's guilt. It's very common. But as long as you consciously know that this isn't on you, then I think you can push past it eventually on your own."

"So... can I go back to work?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm going to agree," she started.

"Yes!" he shouted, jumping from his seat.

"On one condition," she said louder, waiting for him to sit back down, "I want you to come and see me once a week so I can check up on you. Right now, I think actively helping people will be good for you but if I think being back at work is impeding your recovery rather than helping then I will pull the plug. It's important for your health and for the safety of your team that you are only out there if you are one-hundred percent. We'll set up a time and we'll meet until I am certain that you're past this."

He nodded excitedly, not even caring that he needed to keep going to therapy every week. He was going back to work, nothing else mattered at that moment. Street rose quickly from his seat, reaching forward to shake her hand earnestly when she did the same.

"I will. Thank you!"

"My pleasure. Let's set up a time you can come in consistently and I'll get your forms filled out." 

* * *

 

They settled on Friday night's at 5:30. It was right after his shift ended and even though it was leading into the weekend, Wendy thought that talking out the week and how he was processing it all when it was still fresh was the best course of action. He didn't care though, he was searching for his team, approval form in hand. He found them in the locker room getting their gear on.

When he walked through the door, they all looked to him expectantly. He stopped and held the paper up for them to see and they erupted in excitement, dropping their tasks for a moment to rush over and congratulate him. Tan grabbed his hand and brought him in for what Chris affectionately called "bro hugs" and Deacon rested a hand on his shoulder and grinned at him proudly. Hondo took the form from him, promising to drop it off with Cortez after he signed it. 

"I knew you could do it," Chris exclaimed, giving him another hug.

"She says you're good?" Luca asked. He looked happy but Street sensed that a part of him was still concerned.

"Yea," Street assured them, "I'm great. Now, where are we heading?"

"Armed robbery," Hondo explained.

"Let's do this!" Street exclaimed, moving to grab his gear from his locker.

In that moment, he was in a good place and he felt better than he had in weeks. He felt like he could conquer anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Chapter one down with a new POV~~ Adventurous! Let me know what y'all think


	2. Night One

After a successful day at work with two armed robbers safely behind bars, the team decided to gather at Luca's house for a small party. Tan brought over some beers and Chris insisted on bringing chips even though Luca told her he had plenty of snacks in his house. Hondo was playing the Cops arcade game that sat against the wall in the living room for the first time, pretending to be frustrated when he couldn't reach Luca's high score.

"Keep trying, man," Luca laughed, "I've been playing that since I was a kid! It's my game!"

He clapped Hondo on the back as he walked away, causing the other man to slip and lose the game.

"You did that on purpose," Hondo called after him, "You worried I'm going to kick your ass?"

"Not in a million years!" Luca taunted.

Everyone on the team was very competitive, one had to be in order to pass S.W.A.T. academy. Unfortunately, it meant game nights were taken very seriously and God help any bystanders in the blast radius. Soon the two got into a Cops death match with Chris and Tan standing close by to cheer them on. Street had been a little overwhelmed by the chaos all day and had opted to avoid the chaos going on in his living room in favor of preparing the bowls of snacks in the kitchen and Deacon, being the only fully mature member of their team, came to help him. Deac insisted he just didn't want to watch grown men bicker over a video game, but Street knew that at least part of his decision came from him wishing to check up on his newly returned teammate.

"I got this, Deac," he insisted, pouring Chris' chips into a big bowl.

"How are you holding up?"

Street paused to cast a sideways glance at his teammate, "Fine. I'm just glad to be back to work."

"I don't doubt that," Deacon assured him, "But you've been uncharacteristically quiet today. I just want to make sure everything is okay."

Street tossed the now empty bag into the trash and turned toward his friend, leaning back onto the counter and crossing his arms over his chest, "I'm just not used to so many going on at once anymore. I've been mostly by myself for the better part of a month. But, it's fine. I'm dealing with it."

Deacon looked like he wanted to prod his teammate some more, but realized that he had gotten all he would so he said, "Well, just let me know if I can help in any way."

"You can start by grabbing the beers," Street smiled, clapping his friend on the back before he grabbed the chips and a bowl of some popcorn before heading into the living room.

Once the food was out, everyone got distracted and settled down to watch a movie. Luca had won the tournament, to nobody's surprise. Hondo conceded gracefully and opened Luca's beer for him as a form of prize. After channel surfing for a bit, they came across the original Karate Kid and settled down to watch. Street, Chris, and Luca were sitting on the couch directly across from the tv, with Deacon and Hondo in separate armchairs against the wall. Tan had to drag one of the wooden chairs from the dining area over to fit.

"If you planned this be our hangout spot, I don't see why you don't have enough chairs," Tan complained to Luca as he dropped the chair down at the end of the coffee table.

"Hey, you've got a chair. There's enough," Luca laughed, tossing a piece of popcorn at the back of his friend's head.

They've just reached the 'wax-on, wax-off' scene when there's a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," Street says, setting his beer down and rising quickly from his seat. When he reaches the door, he turns the knob quickly only to see his mom standing on the other side of the door. Shocked, he quickly checks over his shoulder to make sure his team hadn't noticed before stepping onto the porch and shutting the door partly behind him.

"Ji-" she starts.

"What are you doing here?" he asks in a harsh whisper. He hears the movie pause inside and he knows the others have realized who it is.

His mother scoffed and tossed her hands up, "I'm here to see my son! I wasn't aware that was a crime!"

"How did you even find out where I live?" he questioned.

"Well, I had the location turned on on your phone before you left," she explained, rushing to explain when he looked at her disbelievingly, "Not anymore. Your old one is broken and I don't have the new one. But I noticed that you came here a lot, so I figured-"

"You tracked my phone!" he shouted, remembering at the last second to keep his voice down, "You can't do something like that!"

"You are my son! If you're not going to talk to me-"

"No!" he insisted firmly, "This is exactly why I told you that I can't be around you."

"You almost died, Jimmy!" she exclaimed, clearly not sharing Street's desire to keep things quiet, "You disappeared on me, without a word. And then I get this letter from some psycho that he has you! And what? We finally find you and you send your bodyguard to kick me out of the hospital? You tell him to let me know that I'm not welcome? Rather than just letting me see my son in the ER?!"

"It isn't like that..."

"No, I know exactly what it's like. I've saved your life twice now, you know? I spent twenty years in prison for  _you!_ I worked with those FBI people to find you!" she shouted, gesticulating wildly, "You realize you wouldn't be standing here right now if it wasn't for me? Twice over! But you're too good for me? Me?!"

"Mom," he said placatingly, hoping to stop her.

"You've been out of the hospital for two weeks and you still couldn't call me just to tell me you're okay? I get nothing?! Not even a text?"

"I'm sorry," he answered desperately, "Okay, I'm sorry. It's been hard lately and I just-"

She scoffed disbelievingly, "It's been hard for  _you?!_ I almost lost my son! You are so selfish, just like your father!"

He didn't have time to react. Hondo opened the front door then, stepping out onto the porch with them. He gently shut it behind him, latching it this time to ensure privacy.

"Oh," Karen said, pointing accusingly at Hondo, "You gonna have him kick me out again? You need to hide behind him?"

"I think that's enough of that," Hondo spoke calmly, resting a hand on his teammate's shoulder, "Go back inside."

Street looked at Hondo like he was unsure, caving when his leader held his gaze unreservedly. He shot one last glance to his mom before turning around and heading back into the house. Once the door was safely shut behind him, Hondo turned back to Karen.

"May I walk you to your car, Mrs. Street?" he offered politely.

"Why? To make sure I actually leave?" she spat.

"No," he answered steadily, "This is a dangerous neighborhood. I just want to make sure you get there safely."

He held his hand out in the direction of the car at the curb. She grumbled curses underneath her breath before she spun around and marched back to her vehicle, Hondo keeping stride beside her.

"He's my son," she insisted as they walked, "You can't keep him from me forever!"

"He may be your son," Hondo said, "But he's a grown man. The only person keeping him from you is you."

"How dare y-" she started, stopping at the gate and turning to glare at him.

"He told you he can't be around because he wants to become a better version of himself. What do you think that makes you? That's not something you tell somebody that is healthy to be around."

Karen narrowed her eyes at the officer standing in front of her, "You're manipulating him. You're spreading lies to keep him away from me."

"Get your keys out, ma'am. It's time for you to leave," he responded, fighting to keep himself from responding to her inflammatory response.

She rummaged around her purse angrily, finally finding her keys and walking around the car to the driver's side. As she moved to grab the door handle, Hondo leaned forward and stopped her from opening it by pressing his hand against the top.

"The thing I can't figure out is if you're deliberately trying to manipulate him or if you just don't realize you're doing it," Hondo said, pushing forward when she tried to argue, "Either way, I don't care. He told you to stay away from him, with good reason. I know about the drugs. If you should take it upon yourself to disrespect his wishes again, I will personally see to it that your parole gets revoked and they'll send you back where you really belong. Understand?"

Finally, he had stopped her neverending arguments and she nodded quietly rather than shouting at him. He smiled, stepping back from the car.

"Thank you. Have a nice night."

"Bite me," she hissed, climbing into her car and punching the gas, speeding away down the street. 

* * *

 

The door latched behind Street once he was inside, and he stopped and leaned against it, bringing his hands up to cover his face and breathing deeply. After a moment, he stood up and looked to find his teammate's eyes watching him.

"Wow," Tan breathed, "That's intense."

"I knew she was a piece of work, man," Luca added, "I didn't know she was that bad."

"We're out of chips," Street answered, grabbing the empty bowl from the coffee table and heading into the kitchen. He dropped the bowl onto the counter. He pressed his palms against the cold tile, leaning his weight into his arms and dropping his head. He breathed in the quiet, counting in and out like Buck had taught him so many years ago. Light footsteps on the linoleum alerted him to the fact that Chris was standing in the doorway.

"You okay?" she asked quietly.

Without looking up, he simply nodded.

"I'm sorry," she added.

He knew she wanted to help but wasn't sure how. Chris couldn't fix it, she knew that. But it wasn't in her nature not to try.  She knew that he needed space, but it also wasn't in her nature to just walk away. As a compromise, she wouldn't cross that doorway until he asked her to. He realized then that he didn't want to be alone, not really. So, he decided to invite her in. He stood up and turned toward her, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms.

"I'm not sure what to do with that."

"With my apology, or with your mom's big scene," she asked, stepping into the kitchen and stopping just in front of the fridge.

He couldn't help a small chuckle, "Well, both I suppose. But I meant my mom."

"What's bothering you about it?"

"Probably that I think she's right."

Chris was quiet for a minute, thinking through her words before putting them out into the open.

"You have to know that she isn't."

"Of course she was worried. And I just let her keep worrying. Would it really have been so hard for me to call her? Or just send her a text? I'm being selfish."

Chris smiled, "Like you told her, it's been kind of hard lately. And like you told me in the hospital, she can be a lot to deal with. Tonight is just exhibit A. You needed time and space to sort things out. That is  _not_ selfish. And I know I don't have to say this, but you are not like your father."

"I know," he whispered.

"Do you?"

He looked up at her, seeing a mixture of expectancy and disbelief on her face.

"Yes," he insisted, "If there is one thing I  _know_ I am not, it's like him."

They heard the door opening from the living room followed by a muffled, "Where is he?"

The others must have pointed to the kitchen because Street didn't hear a response but Hondo was in the kitchen a moment later.

"She's gone," he explained as he came through the door.

"Thanks," Street mumbled, looking down to his feet and scuffing his shoes on the floor.

"Do you want to finish the movie?" Chris asked, hoping to cheer him up a little, "It's one of your favorites."

"No," he insisted, "I'm uh... I'm just gonna go to bed. You guys can finish it though."

He smiled at Chris briefly to assure her that was okay, then squeezed past Hondo to get through the doorway. It was a small kitchen and the guy was a big dude.

"Kid," Hondo said, halting Street in his path, "Don't listen to those things she said. Ok? She's all sorts of wrong."

"I know," he answered quietly, smiling at Hondo and then he disappeared through the doorway.

Hondo and Chris exchanged concerned glances before they went back into the living room to join the others."

"Is he alright?" Deacon asked, gesturing to the door Street had disappeared through.

"He will be," Hondo answered, looking in that direction, "He just wanted to hit the hay. Which is something I think we should all do. We have work in the morning."

He was expecting grumbles, but the convivial mood had been killed already and Tan and Deacon got up without complaint while Luca stood to start picking up the empty beer bottles. Chris hung back to help while the others said their goodbyes and left.

"Alright," Chris said once the last of the bottle were gathered in the kitchen, "I'm gonna head out. You good?"

"Yea," he answered, "I can finish cleaning up on my own."

"Keep an eye on our boy, yea?" she asked, raising her hand for a high-five.

He returned the gesture, grabbing her hand and holding it for a second.

"Of course," he assured her, "Now get."

She laughed on her way out the door. Luca placed the few bowls in the sink, saving the dishes up until he absolutely needed to do them, and dropped the bottles into the recycling. He shut off the tv and all the lights and headed to his room. He paused when he noticed that the lights were still on in Street's room.

Debating about whether or not to try talking to his teammate, he decided that the morning would be better. Wait until everyone had had the chance to calm down and everything wasn't still so fresh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lovely commentator on my last fic requested a confrontation between Street and his mom and I thought it was an awesome idea. I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been awol. Moving is kinda hectic. But I've got some time now, so here ya go!

The second day back was relatively uneventful and Street couldn't help but feel a little bit grateful for that. Sleep hadn't been coming easy since his team had found him and he was starting to realize that functioning at work was kind of difficult when he was running low. But if Street was anything, he was not a quitter. He had decided he was ready to come back to work and he would see it through. Besides, he figured his sleep pattern would even itself out eventually anyway.

"How is he really?" Street heard Tan's voice echoing out from the locker room. He had been tasked with handing the debrief paperwork off to Cortez and while he had suspected it was a deliberate attempt to get him out of the room, Hondo was always the one to hand in paperwork, he had hoped against it. They were trying to keep their conversation hushed but voices traveled in the hallway.

"No, guys," Luca defended, "He's good. He's just been kind of quiet lately is all. I think being back is just a bit of a culture shock is all."

"Come on, Luca," Chris asked, and Street could hear how worried she was, "He hasn't been acting like himself lately and you know it. What's going on?"

"I don't know," Luca argued, "He won't talk to me, same as you. He just insists everything's fine and changes the subject. I don't know if he's been sleeping though."

That caused Street's stride to falter and he paused for a moment.

"What do you mean?" Hondo asked.

"Well, I've noticed that his bedroom light has been staying on at night. It's on when he goes to bed and I wake up before him and it's still lit. I just don't know if that means he's been up all night or if he has a problem sleeping with it off."

The collective sigh that followed that admission made Street's feet start moving again. He decided he didn't want his teammate making any more revelations about the new quirks he'd picked up since he'd left the hospital. He made it to the end of the hallway and rounded the corner into the locker room. Everyone immediately dropped whatever they were about to say as soon as they saw him. They didn't try to pretend like they weren't just talking about him behind his back, they were professionals. They knew they had been caught just like they knew it would be fruitless to pretend otherwise.

"Interesting locker room topic. Might I suggest last night's football game next?" Street commented, heading to his own locker to undo the lock. His team had been standing in a semi-circle around the benches in the center of the room, so he had a decent amount of distance between himself and them.

"There wasn't a game last night," Chris said, "The season is over."

"Fine, whatever sport is currently playing then," he put the last of his gear away and shut his locker, picking up his bag from the floor and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Street-" Chris started.

"No," he said, turning to face his team, "You guys don't get to decide to have this conversation behind my back and then expect me to want to participate."

"We're just concerned," Deacon explained.

"I understand that. Believe me, I do," Street answered earnestly, "But if I wanted to discuss this, then I would have brought it up. I know I've been acting strange lately and I'm sorry. But I'm not ready to go over all of that yet."

"Have you not been sleeping?" Hondo asked, taking the initiative to move closer to his teammate, "Cause that's the sort of the thing that can affect the team. I need to know you're at your best."

Street couldn't resist rolling his eyes, "I'm fine! I had to get cleared by five different people to be able to come back to work! Why would anyone of them have signed off if they didn't think I was ready?"

"You didn't answer my question," Hondo insisted, "Have you been sleeping?"

Street dropped his bag, bringing his hands to his face and taking a deep breath through them. He had to resist the urge to yank out his hair, he knew that definitely wouldn't help his case.

"Yes!" he shouted, remembering to lower his voice as he continued, "I just leave the light on cause I don't like being in the dark! Okay?!"

He knew he had screwed up when he saw the sad look on Chris' face. On all their faces, actually. Hondo almost looked like he felt guilty for calling him out.

"Why not just talk to us about this, man?" Luca asked, "Maybe we can help."

"You can't help me. And I don't need it anyway," he explained, calmer this time, "If I wanna talk, I'll go see Doctor Wendy."

"You're going to Wendy?" Deacon asked.

"Yea, part of the deal. I have to talk to her at least once a week," he answered, turning to Hondo, "See? People are making sure I'm actually fit to be here. You don't have to worry about it."

Chris and Luca tried to call after him, but he felt drained by that point in the day. He picked his bag up off the floor and headed outside. He had never been more grateful that Chris had been thoughtful enough to move his bike so it wouldn't be impounded after it had been left in that parking lot. He had that ride too and from work now, so he didn't have to wait around for Luca and be sucked into another conversation he didn't want to have. But on his way to the parking lot, he got lost in his own thoughts and he stopped paying attention to where his feet were leading him. Soon he found himself knocking on Dr. Wendy's door.

She was inside packing up her papers to go home for the night, but she stopped and turned around when he knocked.

"Street? Come in" she greeted, setting her papers down and waving him in, "You do know that it's Tuesday, right?"

"I know," he said, stepping into the room as asked and crossing his arms tightly over his chest, "I know you're on your way out. But... could we talk for a minute?"


	4. Night Two

"Of course, Jim," Dr. Wendy agreed, stepping back and gesturing toward her couch, "Please, sit down."

"Thanks," he muttered, smiling softly as he moved further into the room.

Wendy moved to her own chair, flattening out her skirt beneath her as she sat, "So, what's up?"

"I don't know... really," he answered thoughtfully, "I just walked in on my team talking about me behind my back. Not bad things. They're worried about me."

"Does that bother you?"

"No, it's not that," he said, "I just... When I found them they asked me if I needed to talk about everything. They said they could help. And it made me realize that I do want to talk to somebody, but it can't be them."

"And why not?" Wendy asked, tilting her head to the side slightly, "Aren't they your teammates? Isn't it their job to have your back?"

"Yes, but I can't tell them all this shit. I mean, Hondo found out I wasn't sleeping and he immediately asked if I was fit to be back," Street chuckled sarcastically, "I'm still on probation. I already have you checking up on me every week. I can't risk telling them the things that make me weak only for them to decide that you and all the doctors are wrong and that I shouldn't be here."

"These things you perceive as weaknesses..." she led, holding his gaze steadily, "Do  _you_ believe they make you unfit to be back?"

He thought for a moment. He knew where she was headed. He'd been down this path with the handful of shrinks the group home he'd stayed at between fosters had made him see. Apparently, skipping class and stealing soda from dollar stores made him a 'discipline case'. She was trying to get him to admit that he was making a big deal out of this because  _he_ thought the lack of sleep, among other things, was an issue and not because his teammates would.

"I don't," he answered firmly, "I admit, I've had some doubts about whether or not I was right coming back. But only because everything is louder than I remember it being."

"You were by yourself in a small space for a long stretch of time," she explained, "It's normal for you to need time to readjust to a chaotic environment. It's not unlike how the doctors at the hospital would have kept the lights in your room dimmed in the beginning, to allow your eyes time to get used to the light. Your brain needs the same consideration."

He was silent for a moment, mulling over her words. When he didn't respond, she decided to move the conversation along.

"You said that you weren't sleeping. Would you like to explain that to me?"

Street sighed deeply, pressing his hands into the leather cushion underneath his thighs.

"I just don't like the dark anymore," he explained, surprised when he heard his voice shake slightly, "So, I leave the light on at night. Trouble is, it's hard to sleep with the light on. But... I have nightmares and they're worse when I wake up and there's no light."

"It leads you to believe the dream was real?" she asked slowly, keeping her voice low and calm. He appreciated that.

"When I was... in the closet, I think I hallucinated for a bit? And I saw my team coming to rescue me. But then I'd wake up and I was still trapped."

"And sleeping in the dark causes that same fear. You're worried that this is the dream?"

"Pretty much," he explained, then he reached up and gestured around the room, "But when I sleep with the light on, when I wake up I know that all this is real."

He let his hands fall back down beside him, regarding Wendy carefully. Street was a little worried she'd think he was crazy, despite her occupation.

"That's completely rational. It isn't something for you to think lesser of yourself over," Wendy said earnestly, "You've been through a traumatic experience and you're still processing it."

"I know that," he answered, "But how can I look Hondo in the eye and tell him that I'm ready to be back at S.W.A.T., back on the team, when I'm scared of the dark like a little kid?"

"You don't have to. That's the job of myself and your doctors, all of whom have already signed off. The only reason I've asked to see you every week is that I want to monitor your progress. It's important you have an  _objective_ eye being kept on you to get you through the first hurdle. But this is a marathon and it's going to take some time to reach the finish line."

He couldn't help but laugh a little, "Why do shrinks always have so many metaphors?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" she smiled, "Metaphors 101. It's a required course in college."

"Thanks, Doc," he chuckled, rising from his chair, "Sorry to keep you so late."

"Don't even think about it," Wendy promised, "I try not to be so hard on yourself. Try to look at this like a wound that's healing."

"It takes time?" he asked jokingly.

"Exactly, another great metaphor. Now get out of here."

"Good night," he called over his shoulder as he rushed down the hall. 

* * *

 

When he parked his bike in the garage and unlocked the front door, he was immediately bombarded by a concerned Chris and Luca. They rushed him and Chris grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

"Where were you?" she demanded. He pushed her back gently and looked at her confused.

"You left the precinct over an hour ago," Luca explained, "We were worried sick! You can't just disappear on us like that, man!"

He laughed lightly, "I'm sorry. I went to talk to Wendy. I only left like twenty minutes ago."

"It's not funny, dude!" Luca insisted, "We thought something had happened to you!"

Street took a serious look at his friends and realized that they weren't joking around. He really had scared them.

"Hey," he said, earnestly this time, "I'm sorry. Okay? I didn't even plan to go see her, I kind of just ended up there without thinking."

Chris seemed to calm down a bit and Luca let out his tension with his breath as he took a deep sigh. He looked like he was resisting the urge to yank out his hair. Chris stepped toward Street again and he braced for her to start shaking him around again but instead, she pulled him into a hug. Then he heard her whisper in his ear.

"Please don't scare us like that again."

He could hear it in her voice. He had terrified her. He had terrified both of them. Street realized then that he wasn't the only one shaken up by everything that had happened in the last month. His team, his family, had lived with the fear that he was dead somewhere for almost a week. They had dropped everything to find him. Chris had cancelled countless dates with her boyfriend and girlfriend, Deacon had to miss countless shifts at his security gig. And Street would never even know all the other stuff they had all set aside to make him their priority. It had never even occurred to him that he could mean that much to somebody. He was starting to think that maybe Doctor Wendy was right. They would have his back, no matter what.

"Yea, Street," Luca agreed, "At least for the time being, could ya tell us if you're not coming straight home? Just a quick text. That's all. At least while everything is still fresh."

"I promise," he answered earnestly. If they were going to have his back, he'd have to do the same for them.

"Okay," Chris said, letting go and stepping back. He pretended not to notice that her eyes were wet.

"I thought about what you guys said earlier, about how you could maybe help if I just talked to you," he explained, "I know you guys will always be there for me, and I really appreciate it. I'm not ready yet though. It's just... hard."

"Hey, man. We get it," Luca answered, "We're sorry about earlier. Everyone is still kind of frazzled by everything and we were all worried. That's all. We never gossip or anything like that. Scout's honour."

He chuckled when his roommate out one hand up and the other over his heart like he was swearing in on the Bible.

"We'll be here when you're ready," Chris promised, clapping a hand on his shoulder and shooting him a quick smile, "Now, I have to get home. I am tired, and we have to be at work tomorrow."

"See ya, Chris," Luca and Street said in unison and then turned to each other and both shouted, "Jinx!"

"Double jinx," Street said, smiling cheekily at his friend.

"Oooh," Luca groaned, "I'll let you have that one. But only cause I pity you."

"Thank you," Street answered, "This is quite a victory."

"Shut up," Luca laughed, "Get to bed."

"It's only eight..." he argued.

"But you've been going to bed early lately," Luca said, "Probably because that stupid hospital threw off your sleep cycle. See? I observe things."

"My hero," he commented, heading towards his room to get ready for bed.

After brushing his taking a quick shower to wash the grime of the day off, he brushed his teeth and headed to his room. It occurred to him that he hadn't eaten dinner, so he sat down on his bed and pulled out the shoebox he had recently placed under his bed. He'd decided to stockpile snacks in case of emergencies. Newly brushed teeth be damned, he rummaged around and decided on a granola bar. That finished, he tossed the wrapper in the trash and placed the box back where it belonged. He tossed his jacket onto the chair at his desk, choosing to put off hanging it in his closet for now. Chris had brought his jacket to him at the hospital and he hadn't been able to make himself go in his closet yet to put it away, choosing instead to just wear the same jacket every day. It didn't pose a problem, seeing as he had a jacket at work that would fit uniform regulations in case it was ever too cold to run around in just his t-shirt. He kicked off his pants and pulled back the covers. Street eyed the light switch for a minute, weighing the pros and cons to leaving the light on. He wanted to get everything back to normal, but he decided that that night was not the night and left it on, rolling onto his side and yanking the covers up over his shoulders to attempt to drift to sleep.


	5. Day Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom baby! New chapter for your reading pleasure!

The morning wasn't off to a great start. Street hadn't been able to sleep very well, again. His rest plagued with dreams of darkness that would wake him with a start. Thus far, the lack of sleep hadn't been affecting him too much. Nothing he hadn't been able to cover up with copious amounts of caffeine. But he knew it would catch up to him eventually so he needed to formulate a plan of action to fix it soon. He had just run out the granola he liked to eat for breakfast the day before and hadn't had the chance to go to the store. And they were out of coffee.

He had a long list of little grievances that didn't necessarily mean much by themselves, but adding them onto the fact that he probably slept a total of three hours the night before and it was safe to say he wasn't in a very good mood. And then his mother called.

He was too tired to check the caller ID first or else he probably wouldn't have even answered.

"Street here," he answered as he brought the phone to his ear, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Jimmy, baby?"

If Luca had been in the room, he probably would have made a joke about Street looking into the camera like he was on The Office.

"What do you want, mom?" he asked, irritation leaking into his voice. He knew it would hurt her, being so curt, but at the moment he just didn't care.

"Wow, is that how you feel about talking to your own mother?" her voice filtered through the speaker.

"I'm late for work and I told you not to call me," he said, tossing his lunch into a bag quickly and moving into the living room.

"Well, I'm sorry for wanting to talk to my own son. I didn't realize it would be an issue."

"Mom," he said firmly, but trying to make his voice sound nicer, "I'm sorry. I haven't been sleeping very well and I just don't have the patience to-"

"Oh!" his mother scoffed, "I require patience to deal with now? Like I'm some kind of irritating toddler clinging to your leg? You know what, Jimmy? Don't do me any favours. I just wanted to talk to you. Do you have any idea what kind of hell it was for me-"

"I am the one that almost died!" he shouted, "Not you! And I am having a hard enough time dealing with that without you calling me every few days to talk about how hard things were for  _you._ I am so sorry that a serial killer locked me in a broom closet for a week! How tragic that must have been for  _you!_ Is that what you wanted? Are we done here?"

When there was nothing but a stunned silence on the other end of the line, Jimmy almost felt bad for his outburst. Almost. If she had said something else, he might have even caved and apologized. But she was silent, and he revelled in that achievement. In the entire time he'd known her, he had never been able to get the last word. So, he hung up the phone and angrily stuffed it in his pocket. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands over his mouth, breathing deeply through them. Counting like Buck had taught him so long ago.  _Four breaths in, four breaths out._ When he was done, he ran his hands through his hair and let them drop to his side. That was when he saw Luca standing in the doorway leading from his bedroom. Street wondered how long he'd been there and just how much he'd heard. He figured at the very least, he'd heard the shouting.

Before his roommate could make any sort of comment, he grabbed his bag off the floor and turned for the door.

"We're gonna be late. Let's go."

And he was out the door before Luca had a chance to respond. 

* * *

The car ride to work had been mostly filled with awkward silence and it was looking like the workday was going to be much the same way. No doubt the rest of his teammates noticed his dour mood but had learned from the night before not to comment. If they were discussing it behind his back, they were better at it now and he didn't catch them. Chris kept trying to talk to him, but the day was a busy one and it wasn't hard for him to avoid a heart-to-heart.

The calls were mostly easy ones, none that required further investigation, but there were a lot of them. When they finally had time to break for lunch, the team headed towards the kitchen to grab their food from the fridge. But Street was stopped when Hondo grabbed his elbow.

"Street, hang back for a sec," he said, and the group cast the pair a brief glance before continuing forward.

Street stopped and turned to his leader, "Yea?"

"You wanna tell me what's going on?" he asked, and Street was prepared for a lecture but when he looked up all he saw was concern.

"Nothing, sir," Street assured him, "Everything's fine. I just didn't sleep very well last night."

"So this is a bigger problem then you seem to have led on last night?"

"No," Street answered quickly, "It's not affecting my performance. I swear."

"I trust you. If you say you're good, I'll believe you unless I see otherwise" Hondo said, "But one of my guys is having a rough go of it and I'd like to help if I can."

"You can't," Street answered curtly. He didn't mean to come across as rude, he knew Hondo was just trying to help. But something about his lack of sleep mixing with the fact that Hondo was the third person today to ask him how he was doing was grating on his already frayed nerves.

"Luca told me you snapped at your mom on the phone," Hondo confessed.

"Of course he did," Street muttered.

"He's just worried," Hondo defended, "And I can see why. Don't get me wrong, I am more than glad that you finally stood up to your mom. It's just a little out of character for you to blow your lid like that."

Street sighed, scuffing his feet on the linoleum floor. He probably did owe at least Luca an explanation. If he's going to be getting in phoneline screaming matches in their living room, he'd better be prepared to explain himself. 

"It really wasn't a big deal," he explained, "You know how my mom can be. And it feels lately like every little thing just keeps piling on and I guess her calling me was the last straw. It never hit me how selfish she really was until all of this happened."

"Hey, you've got a lot going on. And I can definitely see how your mom pouring on the guilt would be the straw that broke the camel's back. Like I said, I know she deserves it," Hondo agreed, looking at Street and continuing more earnestly, "If you think you have too much to handle, let us know, kid. We've got your back. All of us."

Street considered the statement. He kept hearing that since returning to work.  _"We've got your back."_ He wanted to simply brush Hondo off. Say,  _I know_ or  _You can't help._ But he also wanted sleep and that was something that hadn't come easy for over two weeks. Maybe even since before he left the hospital. Sleep then was mostly involuntary since his body didn't even have the energy to stay awake. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he didn't really want to turn his team away.

"I'm sorry," Street started, "I know I've been kind of distant lately. I've never been great at trusting people and with all of this... it's maybe messing with me more than I'd like to admit. Doctor Wendy says I should give it time, but I can't take not being able to sleep anymore. Maybe we could figure out a way for me to jumpstart it?"

"Hey, it's worth a shot. And I know four other people sitting in the kitchen right now who would love to get in on this," Hondo answered, looking overjoyed that he finally had something he could work to fix. He never had been the sitting-and-waiting type.

Jimmy couldn't help but chuckle. His team always had perfect timing. Right when he thought he was most alone, they rushed in to prove him wrong.

"Yea, alright. I guess a few more brains couldn't hurt."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Hondo exclaimed, clapping Street on the shoulder and turning him around in the direction of the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I'm getting down to the grind in my moving escapade. I'm like a week away. So I can't guarantee how often I will be able to update. I'll try to write in my spare time to keep you guys fed XD  
> P.S. I may or may not have written this while I was supposed to be "working" and had to keep minimizing the page so my boss wouldn't catch me. Oops.


	6. Night Three

Everyone on the team was smart, they had to be to do their job so well, and the brilliant idea they came up with to help him sleep without the light after a long stretch of deliberation was for him to turn off the light. Seemed simple enough. The only problem with the plan was that he would get next to no sleep the night he decided to try that and he needed to be sharp for work. Running on no sleep could cost people their lives and nobody could have that. Fortunately, they occasionally had days off. He figured that he could try to sleep with the light off on days where he had nowhere to be the next morning. His time off would be exhausting for a while, but eventually, everything would go back to normal.

Street did wonder briefly what Doctor Wendy would think of this plan. He was trying to heal like she said, but he considered the fact that he was pushing himself into healing rather than letting it happen naturally and he didn't think she would like that. He supposed he'd just have to see how it goes and deal with the consequences afterwards.

After they got off work, most of the team decided to go out for some "team-bonding". Luca was trying his best to make it sound legit but everyone knew he just wanted an excuse to go out drinking with his buddies. Deacon had a shift at the night club to get to so he had to bow out, and Hondo had promised his mother he'd have dinner with her, so that left the others to their fun.

"Alright!" Luca exclaimed as they headed through the door of his favourite hangout, "The responsible ones are gone and we can get our party on!"

"I'm responsible," Tan protested.

"You sure about that?" Chris asked as she stopped in the doorway to hold the door open for Street, who was dragging behind, "Should we call Bonnie and ask her?"

"Dude, she wants to tattle to your girl. I'd say she's the party-pooper," Luca laughed, clapping Tan on the back. Once Street was inside, they all made their way over to the hostess' podium.

The place was called "The Monger's Gal" and it was not a high-class place by any means. It wasn't so much a bar as it was a restaurant that relied very heavily on the fact it served alcohol. Though, there was a bar against the back wall for patrons choosing to forgo the pretext of food and skip right to the fun stuff. The food wasn't that great and the decor had a tacky nautical theme, but at least they had twelve different kinds of beer. The main reason the Luca liked to visit was that he had known the owner for years and the staff usually gave him a discount. That and it was walking distance from the precinct.

"Hey, guys!" the hostess, Sherry, greeted, "Just four tonight? When am I finally gonna get all six?"

"Don't worry about it! We're the cool ones anyway," Luca said cheekily.

Luca knew Sherry fairly well. She had been working at The Monger's Gal for as long as he had been coming there. She was pretty tall, about a head higher than Luca was, with beautiful amber skin and brilliant green eyes. Her favourite way to wear her hair was in cascading brown waves that fell to her shoulders and framed her face. Her father was the owner of the restaurant and had given her a job there when she was sixteen. She'd been running the front desk ever since.

"Of course you are, sweetheart," she winked, "Follow me."

The tables were jammed pretty close together to increase the number of customers they could accommodate at once, so they had to manoeuvre carefully through to avoid knocking into anyone. Sherry led them to a booth against the front window and placed four menus down on the table. The group took their seats, Chris took a window seat with Street beside her, and Luca sat opposite next to Tan.

"I'll be right back to take your order," she said sweetly, smiling at Street briefly, "I'm glad to see you're doing alright."

When she walked away, Street cast a confused look at his friends, "What was that about?"

Tan shrugged, "Maybe she likes you?"

"Please," Luca scoffed, "Sherry can do so much better."

Street laughed sarcastically and tossed one of the menus at him.

"How do you know her anyway?" Chris asked, "What is this sea-themed nightmare?"

"Well, I know her dad, Frank," he explained, "A few years back, I got a call about a routine break-in. It was simple. I caught the guy before anybody could get hurt. But Frank was really grateful, right? So he starts going on about how he's got this great restaurant and if I'd be interested in ever stopping by then he'd comp my meal. I figured it was right down the street from work, why not? Sherry was like ten at the time and I found out she has dyslexia like me and she was struggling with the school, so I started to help her study and I guess this kind of just turned into my hangout."

"That's sweet," Chris smiled.

"Yea, ya big softie," Tan joked, elbowing his friend in the side.

Luca was reaching up to smack Tan when Chris fixed them with a stare and the pair settled down. Street wasn't participating in their antics like usual, choosing instead to pick apart the paper ring holding his silverware together.

"Street? You alright?" Tan asked.

He looked up at them, surprised for a second like he hadn't even realized that he wasn't paying attention to the group. He looked around briefly before setting his silverware back down.

"I'm fine," he said, smiling tightly, "I haven't really been out like this in a while."

"Dude," Luca started, "If you need-"

"I'm good," he insisted, trying to look encouraging.

If he were to be honest, he'd say that the setting was putting him on edge. The last time he had been in a bar things hadn't exactly ended well and, if the pounding in his chest was anything to go by, he wasn't handling it well. He wasn't focusing on his friends' joking around because he was too busy trying to keep track of where everyone in the room was. Apparently, Wednesday night was a busy time for The Monger's Gal and there were just too many people for him to pay attention to.

The others realized that their prodding wasn't going to help the situation and decided to let it go, albeit temporarily. Eventually, Sherry came back to take their orders and soon their food was brought to the table. Once they all had the distraction sitting in front of them they were able to dig in and actually enjoy the evening.  If Street was still in a foul mood he managed not to alert his friends and the table was filled with good-natured jabs and friendly banter.

Chris did talk the boys into not drinking too much, pointing out that they did have work tomorrow and being hungover was not conducive to a productive workplace. Street didn't take much convincing since he hadn't been drinking in the first place, choosing instead to sip water as fast as Sherry could refill it. They finished up their meals, left Sherry a nice tip, and headed outside.

It was nearing 10 by the time they got outside and the wind was picking up making the group glad they had left work with their jackets. They started their walk back to the precinct to get to their respective vehicles and Tan decided to complain the whole way about how cold it was.

"Yes, Tan. We are very aware of what temperature it is," Chris called up to him, laughing at her friend's antics. She had noticed that Street was walking a little slower than everyone else so she had dropped back to walk beside him.

Two college-age boys in winter coats and beanies were walking towards the team on the other side of the sidewalk, one laughing at something the other had said. They appeared to be at least mildly intoxicated, leaning on each other as they headed down the street. As they were passing, one of them glanced at the group before doing a double-take and stopping suddenly, grabbing hold of his friend's arm so he'd do the same.

"I know you!" he said excitedly, pointing at Street, "Hey, Mark! That's the guy from the news!"

The other boy, Mark, squinted at Street for a minute before making an 'O' shape with his mouth bouncing excitedly up and down, "Yea, dude! He is!"

Luca and Tan had stopped when they heard the commotion and come back toward their friends to see what was going on. Street looked to Chris like he hoped she had the answer to all of this but she just shook her head and shrugged.

"Uh... I'm sorry," Street said slowly, "I think you have the wrong guy."

"No!" the first boy insisted, "You're from that story on that weirdo from Echo Park! Dude killed like a dozen people and you were the only guy who survived."

"Brandon," Mark said, grabbing onto his friend's shoulder and shaking him, "That sounds like a plot to a horror movie."

"No, dude! It's real!" Brandon exclaimed before turning back to Street, "You're so badass! Did you live cause you're a cop? Do they teach you ninja skills?"

When he saw the distressed look on Street's face, Luca decided he'd had enough of the drunken frat boys and put himself between them and his teammate.

"I think my friend already answered you. You have the wrong guy. Have a nice night."

The boys both leaned backwards slightly, their eyes wide and they blinked a few times. Then they just snorted and started walking down the sidewalk again, still laughing just like they had been before.

"Street?" Chris asked softly, trying to ask if he was okay without actually saying it. He was staring after the boys, a pained expression on his face. Once the two rounded a corner and disappeared from view, Street turned back around, crossing his arms across his chest.

"What did they mean that I was on the news?" he asked quietly. Luca stepped back quickly and took his cell phone out of his pocket.

"Well..." Tan said slowly, "They mentioned you briefly on channel five the night we found you. The stations showed up at the crime scene and some rookie cop tasked with guarding the perimeter let your name slip."

"Yea but that was only for a second," Chris argued, "They were more focused on the bodies we found. I didn't think anyone would recognize you from that."

"What about from this?" Luca asked, raising his phone to show everybody, "This is from some serial killer enthusiasts blog. It aired this morning in a newscast, but this is the original written version."

On the screen, there was a headline that read, _Who's Who: The Echo Park Killer and His Victims._ The article was divided into numbered sections starting with Pete Russell and listing his victims in the order he took them, putting a picture with a brief description of their lives. Luca scrolled down to the bottom to show them the last one. It read,  _14\. James Street,_ complete with a photo of him in uniform.

"Fuck," Street cursed quietly, turning away from the phone and bringing his hands up to pull at his hair. Unable to control himself, he started pacing back and forth across the sidewalk. Chris took the phone from Luca and looked closer at the article.

"I don't know how they got some of this stuff, man," Luca explained, "Not every victim's name has been released to the public but they have them all."

Street turned around and lowered his hands from his hair to cover his mouth with them. He was trying his best to take deep, even breaths but the normally simple task was proving to be difficult.

"There's more at the bottom," Chris said disbelievingly, turning the phone to show the boys, "Crime scene photos. Autopsy photos. They even got pictures of the inside of the building itself. How did they get in there?"

Street caught a glimpse of one of them and quickly stepped back, shaking his head.

"They closed the crime scene last week. It's not taped off anymore," Tan explained.

"I have to go," Street said suddenly, spinning on his heel and taking off toward the precinct.

"Street, wait!" Chris called as the trio chased after him, "You are not driving yourself home! Not when you're this upset!"

"I'm not upset!" he insisted futilely, he gave up quickly though. Chris caught up to him and grabbed one of his wrists, lifting his arm up to show him that his hand was shaking. He hadn't even realized it until that moment, but his entire body was trembling. Breathing was getting more and more difficult, the pressure increasing in his chest until he began to think he just couldn't bear it anymore.

"Look," Luca said calmly, "We'll get you home. I'll drive you, or Chris will drive. We'll all calm down and we'll figure this out in the morning. Okay?"

"I go ahead and get my car so I can drive you guys over there," Tan said, "I don't think he can walk back right now."

Stree didn't answer either of them and Chris was getting worried that her friend could pass out at any moment. Chris moved her hand down from grasping his wrist to take hold of his hand, threading her fingers through his. The gesture seemed to calm, even just a little bit, and he looked down at her.

"Just breathe, okay? Do that counting thing you told me about."

He did as she said, focusing on his breaths until he reached eight. It worked enough to at least lift the weight from his chest and he didn't feel like his heart was going a mile a minute anymore, but he still felt a darkness creeping in. Just then, Tan pulled up to the curb.

Luca waved to Tan to let him know they saw him, then turned back to Street, "You good to go?"

Street nodded stiffly, tilting his head back to look up at the sky, "Everybody knows. I know everybody already _knew_ , but seeing it in print feels different."

"I know," Chris said, still holding tightly to his hand, "But we'll deal with it. Just like we always do."

"Thanks," he whispered softly, looking down at her and giving her a small smile. It felt like all the energy in his body had been sucked out of him and he was bone tired, so he was grateful when she let him lean on her as they made their way to the car. In spite of everything, he was grateful for a lot of things just then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like! I accidentally stayed up till 4am to write finish this chapter XD


	7. Day Four

Street had tried to sleep after that, but he was finding it more difficult than usual. Even with the light on, he tossed and turned and kicked the covers off his bed more than once. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him and he reached to his bedside table to grab his phone. He didn't want to read the article on Pete Russell and he certainly didn't want to want to look at any of the no doubt illicitly obtained photos. But there was a piece of him that couldn't resist looking.

So he laid there in bed, scrolling down and tormenting himself when he should have been sleeping.

He couldn't bear to read the little paragraph they'd written on Russell himself. The first sentence sounded sympathetic to the man and Street wouldn't stand for it. When he skipped to the next section, his scrolling halted and he froze on the face of the first man that Russell had taken. Montreal Vicks. Twenty-eight years old and he had been studying to be a doctor. He'd had a whole life of helping people ahead of him and it was taken from him by a monster looking to prove a point. Instead, Montreal had died alone and afraid in a dark room.

Street realized he had been staring at the photo of the smiling boy for too long and shook himself, forcing himself to scroll down. Each of them was the same. Late-twenties to early-thirties with big futures ahead of them. Three of them had grieving widows, two of which with toddlers just waiting for their father to come home. One's girlfriend was left alone to raise their five-month-old baby.

All of them had terrified parents that would never get to see their son again. All of them living with the fact that they couldn't give enough to save their child.

And then there was Bruce Pangetti. He was alive at least. His parents were the only ones who had made the proper sacrifice to earn their son's life. Street wondered why the drunks boys thought he was the only one who survived when Bruce had been all over the news when he was released. But then he scrolled down to his name and he understood.

_Jim Street, an officer with LAPD's Metro SWAT, was the last victim and the only one found alive in the Remming IT building._

There was an entire paragraph but Street decided he didn't really want to know what it said so he scrolled down to the pictures at the bottom. He spent some time staring at the photos of the inside of the building. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, it had occurred to him that he wouldn't know the closet even if he saw it and he didn't want to see it anyway. But he did notice that the rooms had names underneath and he was compelled to scroll until he found his.

It was an entirely different room when the light was allowed to enter. It didn't look like a box, it looked like just any other closet, apart from the bloody scratches defacing the inside of the door. He looked down to his right hand at the two bandages that still covered his ring and pinkie finger. He had torn those fingernails clean off in his efforts to escape and apparently it took six months for them to grow back, so he had to wear bandages to protect them until that happened.

Looking at the gouges in the wood, identical on every door, he felt terror start to pool in his chest. When he felt his breathing start to speed up again, he forced himself to turn off his phone. He hadn't even reached the autopsy photos yet but he knew that wouldn't be good. His morbid curiosity wasn't quite that far-reaching.

That done, he set his phone aside on the nightstand and decided to try once more to fall asleep. He was hoping that once the pounding in his chest had subsided that he would have exhausted himself enough to fall asleep. He was half right. 

* * *

He managed to get some sleep, but not without a new dream coming into the works. He blamed that damned article. Rather than dreaming of darkness and fear, he dreamt that his team had been too late. He dreamt of a stretcher being wheeled down the hallway, his body upon while his friends stood by in horror. He was now the body in the mortuary, the one the blogger snuck in the take photos of. He was just another corpse for the public to mourn for a day and then move on with their lives.

Seeing himself dead did him one favour though. It forced him to realize just how close he had come to that dream being a reality. He may have a few new fears and a few new ticks but, in the end, he was the lucky one. And he didn't want to live in fear anymore. Easier said than done, he knew that, but he wanted to work on it. So as he brushed his teeth and got dressed for work, he was building up the courage to wear a different jacket this morning.

He grabbed hold of the one he'd been wearing for the better part of a month and held it to his chest as he stood in front of his closet door. It was unbelievable how difficult it was to simply open a sliding door but that was his test for the day and he intended to pass with flying colours. So he shut his eyes for a brief moment and took a deep calming breath, then he squared his shoulders and moved swiftly to the closet door. As quickly as he could, he grabbed hold of the closest sweatshirt and then stepped back and shut the door. Once he had put a safe distance between himself and what he was choosing to call 'the port-hole to hell', he leaned forward and pressed his hands onto his knees, breathing deeply.

Feeling triumphant, he tossed the smelly jacket into his laundry pile and pulled the new sweatshirt over his head. It was nice. It smelled a little musty from going unused for so long, but it was infinitely better than the jacket he had been wearing since he left the hospital. He went out into the living room to start packing a lunch for that afternoon. In a strange twist of events, Luca was already ready, having packed a meal for both of them.

"Finally get a new coat?" Luca teased, handing Street the lunch he had prepared.

"Yea," Street answered excitedly, "I wanted to try something new."

"Good for you," Luca said with a small smirk. He hadn't commented on it, and as far as Street knew he hadn't even mentioned it to the team, but Luca had known that he was deliberately avoiding the closet.

For the first time all week, Street was in a jovial mood and held up the pair's usual banter on their drive to work. He felt the joy coming off Luca in waves and it only served to amplify his own, and the excited look on his friend's face only encouraged him to keep joking with him. Despite the lack of sleep, Street was all energy. It was a fluke, and he wasn't sure how long it would last, but he'd take it.

The rest of the team were delighted to see Street in such high spirits as well. They didn't have any calls yet that morning, so they decided to train for the upcoming marksmanship test. They all laughed and joked as they used to, challenging each other to shoot-offs and making bets on who would win. Street was glad to see that the lack of practice hadn't hindered his aim in any way and it was as good as ever.

Right as they were finishing up, Hondo's phone went off.

"Alright, team!" he called, "We got a hostage situation downtown. Let's suit up."

They all nodded and stowed their weapons, running out the door to grab their gear. They were in Black Betty and on the way to the location within two minutes.

"Looks like a routine case. Woman kicked her husband out yesterday, but he didn't get the memo and he came back this morning with a gun. She got a call out and unis showed up. They spooked him and he's holed up in the basement with her and their nine-year-old daughter," Hondo relayed the details.

"We have to be careful. One wrong move and the kid is in the crosshairs," Deacon said.

"Exactly," Hondo agreed, "So stay liquid and don't underestimate this guy. We can't afford to."

They reached the house and the team piled out of the car. The cops already on scene were waiting outside, one kneeling behind the car with their sights trained on the front door in case the man inside tried to make a run for it.

"Hondo," one of the officers greeted, rushing over to shake the team leader's hand, "Glad you could make it. We didn't want to take any risks with a kid involved."

"That's understandable," Hondo agreed, "But don't worry, we'll get this guy. Where are we at?"

They spent a few minutes coming up with a game plan, debating whether to tell the man that they were coming inside and give him a chance to come quietly or if they should go with the stealth option.

"The mom's already been shot apparently. It's her leg," the officer, Rand, explained, "She should be fine if we can get her out of there quickly."

"Is there an ambulance on the way?" Chris asked.

"They should be here any minute."

In the end, they decided that they had to give the man as little time to react as possible. He had already shot his wife and they couldn't risk anyone else getting hurt, so they chose to go in quietly. S.W.A.T. prepared to enter the house. Hondo, Street, and Chris took the front door while the others went around the back way. They cleared the house before meeting in the kitchen at the door to the basement. Deacon moved forward and grabbed the door handle, a flash grenade in his other hand.  When Hondo signalled, he opened the door quickly and tossed the grenade inside. There was a loud bang as the dark room was suddenly lit by blinding flashes of light. They moved down the steps quickly while Tan and Luca stayed up top to guard the door.

"LAPD!" Hondo called as he reached the bottom.

He found the man in no time, tackling him to the ground and ripping the gun from his hands. Deacon kicked it away so the man wouldn't have a chance of grabbing it. Street and Chris ran to the woman and her child. Chris had to put pressure on the woman's wound until the paramedics could get down the stairs to grab her.

Once everything was calmed down and they had the woman safely in an ambulance and the man in custody, they were left with the little girl. Fortunately, she had an aunt that could keep an eye on her but she was over two hours away due to the LA traffic. So, the team promised to take the young girl, Nanni, to the station and keep an eye on her until she could be reunited with her family. Nanni had been relatively calm as the paramedics checked her over until her mother disappeared from view as the ambulance drove off and that was when she lost it. The waterworks broke free and the girl started wailing. Street had been the one to help her out of the house after all the commotion had ended so he decided to try and calm her down. He walked over to her and knelt down in front of her. Nanni was clutching a pink teddy bear to her chest like a shield, so he decided to use that as an opening.

"Hey, what's your bear's name?" he asked softly.

She stopped sobbing and opened her big brown eyes to look at him, "K-kyle."

"Kyle?" he asked, trying not to laugh, "That's a nice name. And you're Nanni, right?"

She nodded silently.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Jim. But my friends call me Street."

"Why?" she sniffled, clinging tightly to Kyle.

"It's my last name. We tend to go by our last names at work."

"That's stupid," she said, loosening one hand from the bear to wipe tears from her eyes.

Street chuckled, "Yea, I suppose it is."

"When can I see my mommy?" Nanni asked quietly.

"Well," Street answered, trying to pick his words carefully to avoid upsetting her further, "Your mommy had to go see a doctor. She's going to be fine, she just needs a little bit of help to get there. And then you can go see her."

"My mommy was hurt. I saw blood and mommy says that's supposed to stay on the inside."

"It is," Street said, smiling softly, "But don't worry about it too much. That's what doctors are for. But for now, if it's alright with you, we're going to bring you with us to our office. We have to wait for your Aunt Clara to come and pick you up."

"Auntie Clara!" Nanni shouted, excited now.

"Yea," Street answered, trying to sound excited too, "She's just kind of far away, so she asked us to hang out with you until she can get here. Is that okay?"

Nanni looked like she was thinking her a sec, biting her lower lip and looking down to her bear. He heard her whisper, 'what do you think?' to it before she looked back up at him warily.

"Are you coming?"

Street was taken aback for a moment. Whenever they worked a case involving a young kid, they seemed to cling to him and he never could figure out why. But he covered quickly and nodded.

"Yes, of course. I'll be your bodyguard. You and Kyle are precious cargo," he said, standing and reaching down to take her hand. That made Nanni laugh and she brought her hand up to grab his, the other letting her bear dangle at her side.

The rest of the team was congregated at the back of Black Betty putting their gear away. Street led Nanni over to them. Luca turns around when he heard them approaching and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Hey, Street. Who's your friend?"

Nanni scrunched her nose at Luca, "His name is Jim. You're stupid."

Street nearly snorted when he saw Luca's shocked face, and the rest of the team weren't able to contain their laughter.

"She told you, man," Tan teased, clapping his friend on the back.

"Hey, Hondo," Street interrupted, "I'm gonna ride back to HQ in a squad car with Nanni if that's alright."

"Yea, of course," Hondo assured, "See you back at base."

* * *

 

It wasn't that long of a drive from Nanni's house to the precinct and then they found themselves sitting in Wendy's office while they waited for her Aunt Clara. Nanni had been serious about him staying, objecting even when he just said he was going for water for her. Wendy had laughed and said she'd go get it instead.

Wendy turned to leave when she saw Hondo leaning in the doorway. She greeted him on her way out and he stepped back so the pair were standing together in the hallway.

"He's good with kids, huh?" Hondo asked thoughtfully, still watching Street playing with Nanni and her bear, "It's kind of funny. If I had to guess, I would've thought Deac."

"Yes, he is. But that's not why you're hovering," Wendy smiled, looking at him expectantly.

He looked down at her briefly and then chuckled, "Alright, you caught me."

"I always do. And yet everybody is always surprised," she laughed, "You're worried about him."

It wasn't a question. She didn't ask because she didn't have to. But Hondo nodded in response anyway. She looked into her office and watched with him for a moment. Street looked genuinely happy as he spoke with Nanni, not simply like he was trying to pass the time till her aunt arrived. No matter how hard he tried, Wendy knew he would never really be alone. He treated people like family and he made them feel like they belonged, it was just who he is. She turned back to Hondo and clapped his shoulder lightly as she walked past him.

"You don't need to be," she said over her shoulder. She didn't need to look back to know that Hondo huffed a little laugh and shook his head, just as he always did, and then went the opposite way down the hall. Really, he knew she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys like this. I have been writing it for like five days??? I keep having to pause and come back to it since I didn't have enough time in one sitting to write like I usually do. Now... this caused me to edit? So I feel like this may be a little better quality than my other chapters. Anyway, here you go.


	8. Night Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus guys. I finally finished packing and made it to my new house, but I don't have internet! :'( Fortunately, I can apparently use my phone as a hotspot so I can write on my computer??? Not sure how it works, just gonna roll with it. Anyway, here is a gift for you!

It had been a good day. Personal victories, one right after the other, and Street had only felt the fear that now lived in the back of his mind creeping out once. Going into the basement to save Nanni and her mother hadn't been as easy as it would have been not too long ago. But that was alright with him because he'd gone down there anyway. He'd overcome a lot of things that day and he couldn't wait to tell Dr. Wendy all about it Friday after work.

Of course, a good day couldn't end without one little hiccup.

The team was gathered near the boxing ring, dressed in their civilian clothes, and just chatting about the day when a uni came around the corner with a woman. He pointed her toward the team and then disappeared back around the corner to go about his job.

"What is she doing here?" Chris muttered, looking over Street's shoulder with wide eyes as the woman moved toward them. The way there were all standing, she was directly behind Street. The others did the same, following Chris' gaze to find what had spooked her.

They all seemed just as shocked as Chris had, but Street didn't recognize her. Tilting his head, he looked back at them.

"Who is she?"

"Kate Russell," Hondo answered distractedly, stepping away from the group and toward the younger woman. She looked nervous, her hands held up near her chest while she distractedly picked at her nails.

"Russell?" Street whispered to Chris. He hadn't heard anything about any of Pete Russell's family, mostly because he had been actively avoiding learning anything more about that man than necessary. But a woman showing up so soon after everything with the same name? That couldn't be a coincidence. And the way his team was reacting only made him all the more certain.

Chris looked like she didn't want to answer him, avoiding eye contact as she spoke, "Pete Russell's wife."

He'd known that deep down, and so he was able to curb his reaction. They didn't know why she was here and he needed to find out.

"Ma'am," Hondo greeted he met her in the middle of the room, "How can we help you?"

"I, uh..." she stammered, looking around at each member of the team individually as if looking for something, "I need to talk to your friend."

"Our friend?" Deacon asked, crossing his arms. He came up behind Hondo, Tan and Luca following suit.

"Yea, um... Street," she answered a hopeful look on her face, "I just wanted to know if we could talk for a moment if that's alright. I saw the article online."

"What article?" Deacon and Hondo asked in unison.

Luca leaned toward them, "Some blogger wrote an all-access article on Russell. Including everything about all of his victims."

A look of realization passed over both their faces and they turned around to look at Street. He hadn't joined the group, hanging a few feet back with Chris beside him.

Hondo looked back to Luca and asked in a hushed tone, "Does he know?"

Luca glanced sideways at his friend and made a pained face, "Yea."

During their discussion, Luca had shifted to the side slightly, allowing Kate to see the pair still standing beside the boxing ring. She gasped and skittered past the team, moving quickly across the room. Street took a step back into the ring as she approached, bringing his arms up to cross them over his chest. The other noticed her get past them and chased after her, not sure exactly what they'd do to stop her but knowing they had to try.

"You're... You're Street. Right?" she asked nervously, fidgeting with her hands again.

He glanced quickly to Chris before looking back to the woman and nodding silently.

"Look, I know... I know this is weird," she explained, "And I understand completely if you need me to just leave, but I was wondering if we could talk? Just for a minute. There are some things I need to know and I need to apologize."

"Why?" Chris interrupted, "You haven't done anything wrong."

"That doesn't matter," Kate answered darkly, looking down at her hands.

Street was silent for a moment, weighing his options. He could say no, she had mentioned as much. She had given him an out. It would cost him nothing. He could say no and just go on with his night, tell her to go back home and not to come back. Avoid the emotional mess that he was certain this conversation would be. But then he looked at her and he saw that she was suffering just like he was. It would be cruel of him to leave her like this.  _One more personal victory,_ he thought,  _Just one more._

"Come on," he answered quietly, "We can talk in here." __

* * *

 

They walked down the hallway to the kitchen, Street opening the door and directing her inside. He followed after her, shutting it behind him to avoid potential listening ears.

"Would you like some water?" he asked, walking around the table to get to the fridge.

"Yes, please," she nodded, pulling out a chair near the door and sitting down. Street handed a bottle of water to her, and she stopped picking at her nails only to start peeling at the label on the plastic bottle. He sat down in the seat across from her, setting his own bottle down in front of him.

"Why was it so important for you to see me?" he asked softly.

Her hands froze as she looked up from her bottle, "I didn't know what Pete was doing. I swear."

"I know tha-"

"It's just... we lost our son. And he got distant and he started going out late at night. I didn't question him. I-I know I should have questioned him. I just thought... I just thought it was part of the grieving process. I was grieving too and I was so angry with this him that I just didn't care where he was anymore. But then one night he brought home that car from that Pangetti boy's family. I had seen it on the news and I knew... We fought and he ran out. I don't know why I didn't call the police right then. I guess I was scared," she explained, silent tears now rolling down her face, "It's important to me to tell you how sorry I am. If I hadn't have been so blind then maybe... If I hadn't have let my own grief control me..."

"Mrs. Russell," Street interrupted, reaching forward to take her hands away from the bottle, "It's okay. I don't blame you if that's what you think."

"Y-you don't?" she asked, sniffling as she wiped a tear from her cheek.

"No," he affirmed, looking her steadily in the eye, "The only person responsible for your husband's fault is him."

She stared at him for a moment before the dam broke and she started to sob, gripping tightly to his hands in hers, "I-I'm so s-sorry!"

Unsure what to do, he simply sat there silently and let her cry. He figured to let her get her emotions out would be the best thing to do. After a while, she stopped. She released his hands so that she could bring her own to her face and wipe away her tears.

"Gosh, look at me. I'm a mess," she let out a wet laugh, fixing her ponytail quickly before grabbing the bottle of water and drinking it all.

"That is a false statement if I've ever heard one," Street answered sweetly, flashing her a quick smile, "Besides, who isn't a mess? We all are, really."

She set down the empty bottle, twisting the cap back on slowly, "Are you a mess?"

"Definitely," he responded, now tearing at the wrapper on his own bottle.

Kate regarded him quietly for a moment like she was rifling through her next words, "How are you doing... with everything?"

"Better," he admitted, "Things were... really hard for a while. But I think I'm finally getting back to the way things were before. One step at a time."

"Listen..." she said slowly, "If there is ever anything I can do to help... I owe you that much."

"I appreciate it," he answered earnestly, "But, really, I'm alright."

"There's something I want to ask you..." she said in a hushed tone, as though she was afraid he'd hear her, "Did Pete... did he say anything to you? Why he did what he did?"

Street shut his eyes momentarily as he shook his head, "No. I'm sorry. I never saw him."

Kate nodded, looking down at her hands on the table, "I understand. Thank you for your time."

She rose from her chair, prompting Street to do the same. They walked back down the hallway to the gym again where his team was waiting for him, looking anxious.

"Do you need me to walk you out?" he offered.

"No, I can find my way. Have a nice night."

And she disappeared around the corner she had come. Street came up to his friends, each of them watching him expectantly. They wanted to know how it had gone, what she had wanted. But he wasn't inclined to say. It felt like a breach of trust. He owed Kate Russell nothing, but he'd give her that.

"Come on, guys," Street said, gesturing for them to follow, "I don't know about you, but I could use some tacos."

"Tacos are for Tuesdays," Tan whined, "It's Thursday."

"Everyday is taco day!" Luca proclaimed, running after Street, "You heard the man! Let's go!"

Finally, they all caved and headed down the hall after their teammates for a well-deserved taco night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if this is up to my usual snuff? If it is not, I apologize. I am effing exhausted. Why did I decide to move??? It's so much work XD  
> I think maybe two more chapters and then we're at the end here folks. What do you think? If I finish it off as the next day, it will have been the entire first week back at work? I think that's a good cap.


End file.
